This City is Far From Here
by Tania-Terror
Summary: At one of the merch tables, there was a group of guys huddled in a corner. They must have been one of the opening bands because no one seemed to pay them any attention. Mickey noticed one of the guys in particular. He could tell the guy was taller than him even at this distance. He was wearing a black shirt with one of the other bands logo on it, which looked a little snug on him.


**Chapter 1: Something in the Air Tonight**

* * *

 **Notes:** I said I wouldn't post anything new without first updating my other fics. I lied. I'm a liar. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
I made up all the bands mentioned here. They don't exist irl.

* * *

Mickey had just finished throwing on some old, tattered jeans and a black t-shirt that he tore the sleeves off of. The shirt had a black and white design Mickey's brother Iggy had painted on with white spray paint. He was getting ready to go to a show and was about to do something with his hair but then decided against it. After a show, he's soaked in sweat; and if it's a _good_ show, he'll probably come home with fake blood all over him, or real blood - that's happened before too.

Mickey heard the door open. He knew it was his sister.

"I'm home!" Mandy called out.

"In here!" Mickey yelled back.

"The hell are you doing?" Mandy asked, appearing in the doorway of Mickey's bedroom.

"Going to a show tonight," Mickey replied. "Told you that two days ago." He stood in front of his dresser mirror, running his hands through his still damp hair a few times.

"Ah, yes. Need to borrow my eyeliner?"

Mickey clicked his tongue. "Fuck off." He never wore makeup to shows like most of the bands he listened to, not that he really had a problem with it, it was just too much of a hassle. He'd definitely need a lot more than eyeliner, and would probably sweat it all off by the end of the show, and then be covered in melted makeup. Yeah, no. Gross. And Mandy would most likely give him more shit about it so no thanks.

"Should be back late," Mickey informed. "Probably after midnight."

Mandy nodded. "Where's the show at?"

"The Bottom Lounge."

Mandy instantaneously erupted in a cackle, clutching over her heart with one hand while she covered half her face with the other. She almost didn't make it to Mickey's bed where she could properly ride out her roaring laughter.

Mickey spun around, eyebrows raising to dangerous heights. "Are you fucking done?"

Removing the hand on her face, Mandy only settled down enough to ask, "Are you sure it's a concert venue and not a gay club?"

"You're a fucking asshole," Mickey sniped as Mandy continued her guffawing. He grabbed his keys and wallet from atop his dresser and stomped out of his room. Mickey shot his sister the bird as he did so.

"Wait, Mickey!" Mandy said, trailing after her brother. "Wouldn't you have more luck at The _Top_ Lounge?"

"Fuck you!" Mickey shouted, and slammed the apartment door behind him.

* * *

As Mickey started the engine of the old clunker he shared with his sister, he turned on the radio and popped a CD in. There were a couple reasons Mickey still listened to CDs. One, there was nothing to hook up his iPod to; and two, he liked supporting bands that would never make it to an arena level of stardom any way he could despite not having much money himself.

The CD Mickey listened to now was the most recent release of a band called New Nightmare; they're headlining tonight. They're a hardcore punk band, which is what Mickey mostly listens to, though he does listen to other genres of music here and there. He's got a greatest hits collection of ABBA that not even Mandy knew about. Yeah, he's definitely taking that to the grave.

There's a grocery store across from the venue. Mickey always parked his car there instead of the parking lot the venue provides. It's free and he could leave the car there for as long as he needed. He stepped out of the car and made sure it was locked before crossing the street to the venue. He was a bit early so there weren't that many people there yet, and these shows don't regularly sell out anyways. There were two lines. One was for people who already had tickets, and the other was for people who still needed to purchase theirs. Mickey walked over to the second line. Tickets were always cheaper at the door than if you bought them online.

As he began his wait, Mickey promptly lit up a cigarette. After taking his first drag and blowing the smoke out through his nostrils, Mickey spotted a group of girls in black, lace, and latex. It's common attire for the girls that come to these shows, and Mickey sometimes found himself staring at them in spite of himself. Mickey's gay, so he obviously didn't stare because he had any interest in them, not like that anyway. And it's not because of what they're wearing, or not wearing. It's summer, so he understood the lack of clothing. Thing is though, these girls would still dress the same even in winter. And sometimes they came wearing fucking six inch heels. _That_ Mickey didn't understand it. Didn't they get cold? Didn't their feet hurt after jumping around for hours on end at concerts? That's fucking insane to him. And well, pretty fucking hardcore to be honest. He knew he'd never put himself through that if he were a girl.

Mickey then realized the girls noticed him staring at them and they smiled and giggled at him. Instantly, Mickey turned a beet red color. He crushed his cigarette out and turned away from them. As soon as he did though, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was an other girl, but Mickey was okay to be approached by this particular girl.

"Hey, Mickey!" she greeted.

"Jackson," Mickey greeted in return. "Didn't know you'd be here."

Karen rolled her eyes at Mickey calling her by her last name. "Wasn't. Just started listening to New Nightmare and decided I should come last minute. You know any of the other bands playing?" Karen and Mickey had met a few shows ago. There had been a girl trying to hit on Mickey and he didn't know how to reject her politely but he didn't want to be an asshole to her either so he just stood there giving one word replies to her attempts at making conversation. Thankfully, Karen seemed to read the situation and came to his rescue, pretending to be Mickey's girlfriend. They continued to bump into each other at various concerts since then.

Mickey shook his head. "Nah, supposed to be two or three of them before New Nightmare comes on though." Mickey didn't really like waiting as the opening bands played. Sure, some were pretty good and knew how to get the crowd going, but that wasn't usually the case.

Karen just shrugged.

"Are you fucking taller than me now?" Mickey blurted out.

Karen snickered. "It's the shoes."

Mickey looked down. Karen was wearing creepers; big, clunky shoes essentially. Mickey then scanned the rest of Karen's outfit. She was wearing shorts that were half black and half white, a black halter top, and a spiked choker while her blonde hair curled over her shoulders. "You look good, Jackson."

Karen raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"What? I can objectively know when a girl looks hot."

"Aren't you a sweetheart," Karen said mockingly, throwing an arm over Mickey's shoulder. "What's got you in such a good mood, honey?"

"Fuck off," Mickey said lightly, shrugging Karen's arm off. Mickey was in a good mood. New Nightmare didn't tour a lot, so he was happy to see them play tonight. Last time they were in town, he had missed them. He didn't explain any of that to Karen though.

The lines began to move and that's when Mickey knew the doors finally opened. He and Karen paid for theirs tickets and promptly went inside. They showed a security guy their IDs and were given wrist bands to let the bartender know they could drink. Mickey never got drunk at shows since he needed to drive, but he had a beer sometimes, two at most.

Mickey and Karen bypassed the merch tables, neither of them ever having extra money for it, and headed to the floor. There were two spots Mickey liked being best: front and center, bellowing lyrics back at bands; or in the middle of a mosh pit. He crowd surfed every now and then but he had a bad experience where some assholes dropped him so he usually stuck to the front or charged in and out of pits. Mosh pits were like Mickey's own personal form of therapy. It was a good place to get out all his anger, frustrations, and just general negative feelings about things. He didn't know any of the other bands playing though, so he decided to hang at the side for now.

"Hey, I'll be right back," Karen said. "Bathroom."

Mickey nodded as Karen was already walking off. He glanced around the room absentmindedly. For a show that hadn't sold out, it seemed to be a pretty decent sized crowd.

At one of the merch tables, there was a group of guys huddled in a corner. They must have been one of the opening bands because no one seemed to pay them any attention. Mickey noticed one of the guys in particular. He could tell the guy was taller than him even at this distance. He was wearing a black shirt with one of the other bands logo on it, which looked a little snug on him, and grey jeans. He had a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm and his hair was slicked back out of his face, except for one rebellious curl. In the dimly lit room, Mickey couldn't tell what the guys hair color was exactly, but he knew it wasn't dark. His jawline could probably cut diamonds, fuck. Before long the guy caught Mickey staring at him.

Mickey flushed red, he really needed to get his staring problem in check, and looked away. He was embarrassed even though he knew his blush wouldn't be noticeable in the dark. He chanced glancing back at the guy, who still had his eyes on him. Mickey thought he saw the corners of his mouth turn up slightly in a smirk before returning his attention to his bandmates.

Mickey swallowed dryly.

"Hey, what I'd miss?" Karen asked as she strolled up next to Mickey.

"Nothin',"

The lights dimmed further, except for the ones aimed at the stage. The show was about to begin.

* * *

It was a good concert so far. The second opening band was well into their set and the crowd was swaying energetically, though Mickey thought it was more out of courtesy than actual enjoyment. Still, he'd seen worse opening acts, so it was fine.

Since the show started, Mickey had looked back at the merch tables trying to spot the guy he'd seen before. He was nowhere in sight though. If he was in a band, he'd probably be backstage somewhere getting ready.

"Alright, we got one more song to play for you tonight," the guy on stage said as the crowed cheered. "I wanna thank New Nightmare for bringing us out on tour with them, and the other bands we got to meet and hang out with. Killing Sunshine and Disguises, who are coming up next after us. You guys all excited for them?" The crowd cheered again. "You excited for New Nightmare?" The crowd cheered louder, shrieked even. "Alright, we're Razor's Edge, have a good night, Chicago."

As the band began their last song, the crowd finally got a mosh pit going. It wasn't intense enough for Mickey's liking so he just jumped alongside Karen.

After three minutes or so the song ended and the band retreated from the stage, waving at the crowd. There were brief five to ten minute interludes between each bands performance as their road crews helped set up the stage with their instruments and props.

"Drinks?" Karen asked into Mickey's ear. They were both a bit hard of hearing by now.

"Read my mind," Mickey answered as they walked over to the bar.

"Pretty good night," Karen said, hopping onto one of the barstools. She and Mickey showed their wristbands to the bartender and ordered a couple of beers.

"Yeah," Mickey agreed. "Could be better though."

"Next band is local I think."

"They're from Chicago?"

"Not just anywhere in Chicago. They're south side."

"No way. Seriously?" Mickey said disbelievingly, taking his beer and sliding the other to Karen.

Karen took a swig before answering. "Yeah, pretty sure they are."

"What's their name again?" Mickey asked pulling out his phone, intent on googling them.

"Disguises."

Mickey typed in their name and clicked on the first link, which was a link to their Facebook page. He checked their about page and sure enough they were south side. Mickey also noticed the guy he had been staring at before the show was their lead singer, and that he was a redhead and also had a nose ring through his right nostril like Mandy. His name was Ian Gallagher, and Disguises was mostly a family act, except for their guitarist Sully. The other two members were Ian's younger sister Debbie who played bass and recently turned eighteen, and Ian's older brother Lip who played drums.

There were several photos that Mickey skimmed through. Some looked like the members had attended a Pride event. Mickey clicked on the first one and surveyed the comments. Most commenters were saying how much fun it looked like they were having but there was the occasional _what does this have to do with music?_ comment that Mickey raised a wary eyebrow at. Mickey clicked on the next one, which was just of Ian sporting a pair of sunglasses and six lines on his left cheek in the colors of the rainbow. The comments on that particular photo were far less complimentary.

 _nobody cares that you're queer. just focus on the music_

 _why do you have to make this about sexuality?_

 _you're too hot to be gay_

 _it sucks that he's into dudes_

Yikes! Wow, okay, Mickey had some thoughts on these comments. First of all, the fact that Ian was out even though Disguises was just starting out as a touring band took a hell of a lot of guts, so respect. Second, Mickey didn't even know of any other musicians in the hardcore punk scene that weren't straight. Oftentimes Mickey felt isolated in a subculture that claimed to be supportive of anyone who didn't fit society's mold of what it meant to be normal, yet was by and large comprised of the same boring ass straight white dude. And third, holy shit, Ian's gay and he wants to get on that like five minutes ago.

"Hey, what's with you?" Karen said, snapping Mickey out of his trance.

"Nothin'." Mickey downed the rest of his beer and hopped off the barstool. "C'mon, let's get back before they start playing."

"Why the sudden interest?" Karen asked, her tone speculative.

Mickey shrugged. "Just think they might be better than we expected. Plus we gotta support our fellow south siders."

"Since when?" Karen's response only earned her a flat look in return so she relented. "Okay, fine."

Mickey and Karen made their way back to the crowd where instruments were being set up and microphones were being checked. Mickey looked to the left of the stage and saw Ian, along with his bandmates, coming up on the stage. They were handed their instruments, except for Ian, who immediately gravitated towards the front of the crowd, separated only by a wooden barrier that came up to his ass. He perched himself up on it and began chatting away with some of the girls in the front. If they knew he was gay, they didn't seemed to care, flirting and laughing along with him. Mickey couldn't help chuckling at that.

Ian's sister appeared to have called him over, and he took his position in front of a microphone. As soon as he removed it from it's stand the music blasted through the speakers.

"Holy fuck, they're loud!" Karen shouted gleefully.

The effect on the crowd was immediate. Everyone was screaming at the top of their lungs and jumped high with their hands in the air. Disguises, particularly Ian, just had this presence that sucked you in. If they said jump, you jumped. If they said scream, you screamed. If they said clap your hands, you were going to clap your fucking hands.

By the second song, there was a decent mosh pit going on in the center of the crowd. Karen had made her way closer to the front, away from the pit. She only liked mosh pits when they were an all girl pit, which were pretty rare. If a girl entered an all guy pit, the guys would usually break it up because they didn't want to hit a girl, which Karen thought was kind of nice but also somewhat offensive. It made her feel like they thought girls couldn't handle their own in a pit with guys. It just made Karen want to deck them in the face even more.

Mickey, however, was fucking dominating in the pit right now. The best thing about mosh pits were that no one ever had any hard feelings afterwards. Everyone knew that it was for getting your emotions out, just letting go, succumbing to a primal, animalistic instinct. And when it was over a lot people just hugged it out. It was like Fight Club but during a rock concert.

After a few songs, Mickey left the pit to rejoin Karen. He was exhausted and starting to get thirsty. The band seemed to have read Mickey's mind because the next thing he knew the audience was being sprayed with cold water from water bottles before the next song began. The crowd cheered appreciatively and the band continued playing.

"This is gonna be our last song, Chicago," Ian spoke into the mic. "I wanna do a little something special that we started the very first night of this tour. That alright with you?" The audience shouted enthusiastically, and Ian took that as a yes so he continued. He jumped off the stage and onto the wooden barrier separating him from the crowd. "Alright, this is called a Death Wall. And for this to work I need you to part down the fucking middle."

Everyone looked around awkwardly trying to make space.

"C'mon, pretend I'm Moses or some shit," Ian chastised when the audience seemed to go at a standstill. "Wider! This needs to be fucking wider!" he demanded.

When there was enough space for him to walk through, Ian jumped down onto the floor and started pacing. Mickey seemed lost, he didn't know what the fuck was going on. He was at the front of the divide, watching Ian with an intense curiosity. Ian caught his gaze briefly, smiling right at him as he recognized Mickey from earlier.

"Just trust me," Ian went on, returning his attention to the audience, though it felt like he was only addressing Mickey. "I'm gonna go back on stage and when the music starts, I want you to fucking charge at each other until this whole fucking room is one giant mosh pit!"

Ian climbed back over the barrier and onto the stage. "Are you fucking ready?!"

The crowed roared, buzzing with kinetic energy. As soon as the first notes hit the air, the audience launched at each other from both sides like they were in some kind of battle, with Mickey at the lead. It was a blur of bodies. Everyone was swinging their arms wildly, kicking even, as the blaring music poured out the speakers and coursed through the crowd.

When the song began to wane, more and more people settled and the mosh pit dissipated.

"Thank you, Chicago, for having us. We'll see you next time," was all Ian said as he and his bandmates promptly retired from the stage.

In the midst of all the chaos, Mickey and Karen had lost each other. Mickey's ears were ringing and his eyes were still adjusting to some of the light turning back on. He blinked rapidly a few times and finally saw Karen stumbling towards him.

"Oh, my fucking god!" Karen exclaimed.

"I know!" Mickey said with equal enthusiasm. "Holy shit, you're bleeding!"

"It's just a broken nail," Karen explained. "I'll be fine. Also, I'm not the only one."

"Huh?" Mickey reached up to his mouth where Karen pointed. When he looked at his hand, he saw a bit of red. There was a coppery taste inside his mouth and when he felt around with his tongue, the left side of his mouth stung. "I think I bit the inside of my cheek."

Karen laughed giddily as if she was high. "Fuck, that was amazing!"

"Merch tables?" Mickey asked excitedly.

"Why?" Karen asked, still laughing, but confused with Mickey's suggestion. She knew he never came to shows to meet the bands. That didn't really matter to him. It was about the concert experience itself rather than fawning over the band members.

"That was a fucking good show, that's why."

"Nah," Karen replied, shaking her head. "I'm too tired. I'm gonna chill by the bar."

Mickey shrugged. "Alright." He headed to the merch tables but saw that there was a line of ten people or so waiting to get something signed or their pictures taken with the band. Mickey lingered at a distance, pretending to check whatever on his phone. He ended up actually sending a text to Mandy about what a good time he was having, but he didn't wait for her reply and shut off his phone.

When their was only one person left in the line, Mickey walked up to the table and purchased a CD from one of the merch girls.

"Want us to sign it?" Ian asked, standing only a few feet away from Mickey since their were only a couple chairs.

Mickey glanced at the other members, who all gave him courteous smiles. He looked back at Ian, noticing he had applied a bit of eyeliner but it was smudged with sweat, and shrugged. "Why not?" He tore the plastic wrapping off the CD and handed it to Ian, who passed it along to his bandmates.

The two stood there for a few moments, just sizing each other up. Mickey could feel his face start to flush under Ian's scrutiny, which only made Ian smirk in return.

"So, uh, I noticed you," Ian said at length.

Mickey couldn't help but break out in a smile. "Really? That's what you're gonna open with?"

"What would you open with?" Ian replied smoothly, taking the CD handed to him by his brother.

The innuendo wasn't lost on Mickey, and it only made him grin wider. "I could show you."

As Ian finished scribbling his name on the CD, he exhaled deeply and chuckled. "Uh, I can't, or I shouldn't"

Mickey's brows furrowed in confusion as he took the CD back from Ian. "Your loss then." He turned on his heel to leave but only got one step before Ian called out to him.

"Wait," Ian said, making Mickey turn around. "What's your name?"

Mickey only smirked in reply before rejoining the crowd.

* * *

The air outside was warm, but still cooler than inside with all those bodies pact so tightly together. Mickey walked alongside Karen, studying the CD he bought.

"Why'd you waste money on a CD when you could probably find their stuff on the internet?" Karen asked.

"They were good." Good enough to actually buy a CD from, Mickey meant. "You need a ride?"

"Nope. Drove here this time. I'll see ya later."

Mickey nodded a goodbye as Karen waved to him. They were both always in good moods, and subsequently nicer to each other, after a show. Mickey lingered outside the venue, reclining against an empty ticket booth to smoke a cigarette before he left. He thought back to New Nightmare's performance. All he could think about during their set was Ian. The hell did the guy flirt with him just to reject him?

"Hey, Ian." Mickey heard a female voice say in a sing-song voice. He turned to look at where the voice came from and caught Ian winking at a group of girls, effectively sending them into a fit of giggles.

Mickey rolled his eyes.

When Ian spotted him, he paused in his tracks but then strolled right up to Mickey. "Hey."

Mickey made a noncommittal noise in return.

"Can I bum a cigarette?" Ian asked, though he carried his own in his back pocket. When Mickey simply offered his own, still without replying, Ian pressed further. "You didn't tell me your name."

Mickey gave him a flat look but obliged. "It's Mickey."

"I'm Ian-"

"Yeah, I know." Mickey regarded Ian and realized he seemed to be holding back. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" Ian asked.

"You're giving me the same look you did inside. Like you wanna do something but you won't let yourself. C'mon, man. You're into me, I'm into you, let's do this."

That got a laugh out of Ian. "I told you, I shouldn't."

"The fuck does that mean?"

"My band and I, or all the bands on this tour, we don't do the whole groupie thing."

Mickey's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "I'm not a fucking groupie."

"I know, but you're a fan. If I had sex with you right now, I'd be taking advantage of you."

Mickey was about to argue that Ian wouldn't be taking advantage of him, that is would be his choice just as much as Ian's, but he just settled on, "Whatever." He took the cigarette back from Ian, taking a drag before he spoke again. "So, what was all that inside?"

Ian shrugged. "Doesn't mean I wouldn't like to have sex with you at some point."

Mickey laughed. "Aren't you on a tour right now? Supposed to be leaving in a couple hours, right?"

"I'm coming back, Mickey."

"And when's that?"

Ian paused. "Um… three weeks. We're in St. Louis tomorrow. The tour ends in L.A. and then we come home."

At Ian's answer, Mickey raised an eyebrow. Three weeks seemed an awful long time from now.

"I'm not asking you to wait," Ian continued, stubbing the cigarette out beneath his boot. "I'm just saying, I'm coming back. And when I do, I'm gonna ask you out, and I hope you'll say yes."

Mickey licked his lips apprehensively. He thought about how he had just wanted to fuck Ian, nothing more. He thought about the fact that he never dated, that he'd never even been on a date before. He thought about all the reasons he should say no, but there must have been something in the air tonight because instead Mickey said, "Okay."

Ian's face instantly bloomed into a delighted smile, and Mickey thought that was maybe reason enough for his unexpected answer.

"Cool, okay…" Ian said, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. "Can I maybe get your number then?"

Mickey laughed. "What, you gonna call me from the road? Check in on me?"

"If you want."

Mickey rolled his eyes, but presented Ian with his phone as he did so. Ian did the same so they could save their numbers to each other's phones. They handed their phones back when they were done and stared at the other a little bashfully, Ian more so than Mickey.

Ian cleared his throat. "I, uh, better go help someone pack something. Gotta hit the road soon." He shuffled his feet for a moment, not knowing what else to say or do, before turning to go back inside.

"Gallagher," Mickey called as Ian revolved on his heel once more. "I'll see ya."

"Count on it," Ian replied effortlessly.

After Ian disappeared into the venue, Mickey began the walk to his car, a smile playing on his lips until he arrived home.

* * *

 **Notes:** A few things - Killing Sunshine was a joke band name my hs friends came up with. I mean, who the hell really names their band that amirite? The other band names are either song titles or album titles (except New Nightmare, which I got from one of the Nightmare on Elm Street movies). Ian's band Disguises is an album title of my favorite band Aiden.

The Death Wall, or Wall of Death, is an actual real thing started by Aiden. And I have actually broken several nails past my cuticles in these Death Walls, though I have not bitten the inside of my cheek. I have also been elbowed in the face, kicked in the head, and got a sprained ankle once. I know all that sounds awful, but I truly loved every second of it.

I literally only wrote/posted this because of the first scene between Mickey and Mandy. I wasn't going to, but The Bottom Lounge is an actual concert venue in Chicago, and when I learned that it was just too good to pass up.


End file.
